


Holding back

by ConvenientAlias



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 10:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17221964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvenientAlias/pseuds/ConvenientAlias
Summary: It's late. Stephen is tired.Segundus wants a word.





	Holding back

“Sir.”

Stephen pauses in the hallway. It’s Segundus’ voice, and it has a note of half-embarrassed urgency. He is a little tired of the noise. So insistent. He, too, makes demands of Stephen—help with calming down Lady Pole, the occasional errand, the demand simply to be pleasant and make casual conversation—and like the Gentleman, he has the audacity to be polite about it. To act as friend.

Maybe he’s being too harsh, but he’s tired. Not just of Segundus. Of everything. Only hours ago, he was with Vinculus and the Gentleman. Only hours ago, he was accomplice in a murder. Then he came back and said he’d been to London and back and listened sympathetically when Segundus and Honeyfoot described Vinculus’ mysterious disappearance.

He is too tired to really be upset about Vinculus, but he has the energy to be upset about this interruption.

“Is there something you need, sir?” he asks. And his voice is polite and steady, because it is always polite and steady; he has always been able to take anything the Gentleman or Sir Walter of John goddamn Segundus can throw at him and more.

Segundus hovers. “I wondered if I might have a word with you, sir.”

Stephen says, “It is late.” He rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand. “I had thought to sleep.”

Segundus says, “But will you really sleep, sir?”

Stephen is offended. There is a knowing look in Segundus’ eyes. Segundus always knows just a little and thinks he’s guessed at everything. But Stephen is not like his ladyship—he hasn’t sworn half his life, and more’s the pity since the Gentleman chooses the hour to seize him arbitrarily—and he can get some sleep if he wants to, sometimes, sometimes. Sometimes the Gentleman gives him a night off. But he can’t say any of this so all he says is, “Yes.”

Segundus says, “There is strong magic about you tonight.”

“Is there.”

“It was all about you when you came in. Perhaps…” Segundus trails off as they meet eyes. He wets his lips. “Well, perhaps you ran into something in London?”

Obviously he doesn’t believe that.

It’s Stephen’s job, really, to make Segundus comfortable, make him believe comfortable lies and hide away all the truth of the Gentleman and the Gentleman’s court and the Gentleman’s crimes and the Gentleman’s promises. But Segundus never has the grace, the courtesy, to make it easy.

“I could not say, sir,” Stephen says. “I have no eye for magic. Not like you.”

Segundus somehow takes this tiny praise as an invitation to step closer, into Stephen’s face. His eyes hover on Stephen’s mouth—doubtless ogling the rose he ranted about that one time, long ago. He hasn’t brought it up since but now and then, Stephen catches him staring. “The magic isn’t—on you, exactly. No new enchantments. But it’s caught around you like…like you walked through a cobweb. You understand?”

He tilts his head.

Stephen politely repeats, “I have no eye for magic, sir.”

Segundus nods skeptically.

“I would like to go to bed, sir.”

Usually that would be it. But tonight, Segundus crosses his arms. “You are holding back, sir.”

“I am _not_ holding _back_.” Instantly Stephen curses himself. He’s not supposed to be starting an argument, not with Segundus who is clever and probing and self-righteous and _white_. But it’s late. It’s late.

Segundus holds up his hands. “I am not trying to accuse you, sir. I only worry about you.”

“Worry? About me?”

“The magic around you is very beautiful, but it does not look entirely wholesome. Or safe.” Segundus eyes him. “I find it a marvel you have not gone mad like her ladyship. I can’t help but wonder if that will change, if something is not done.”

Stephen’s fists tighten at his sides. “I can take care of myself, sir.”

Segundus steps closer—Stephen backs away, and he gives Stephen a pitiful look, as if he has been slapped. “You should not have to, sir. Not with something like this. We could help you. Me, and Mr. Honeyfoot—we know a little about these things—at the very least, you could get it off your chest…”

Getting the matter off his chest, talking about it at all, is the last thing Stephen can do. He swallows. He thought he was as tired as he could get tonight, but he has found new depths. Now the exhaustion has not only reached his bones but plumbed the marrow.

“I’m afraid, Mr. Segundus,” he says, “that it would not do.”

Segundus looks at him. One half expects him to say, _Please. Please_.

Stephen turns away. “Good night, Mr. Segundus.”

The only response he gets from Segundus is a deep, disappointed sigh.

**Author's Note:**

> ...not sure whether to tag it Segundus/Stephen or Segundus & Stephen so I went with both. If you have an opinion, let me know.  
> I just think these two are interesting and I could have seen them interact on the show a lot more!


End file.
